


The Mortal Instruments Tumblr Prompts

by baelinwhitethorn



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6268933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baelinwhitethorn/pseuds/baelinwhitethorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts taken from my tumblr bookcatsandunhealthyobsessions (then booyoushipwhore)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“We’re going to see record snowfall tonight, right in time for the Christmas season,” the weather lady announced from the small television that rested in Luke’s store as Clary Fray went through sorting books. It was Christmas Eve, and she was determined to find a certain book for Jace’s present. He’d casually quoted it the other day when they had been practicing together, and, after a surreptitious look on his bookshelves, she discovered he did not already own it.

“You need to get to the institute, Clary,” her stepfather, Luke, interrupted her fierce scanning, “Unless, of course, you want to hear your mother complain for hours about how you went walking in a snowstorm _and_ neglected to spend time with us on Christmas.”

“I’m not going to miss Christmas with my _parabatai_ when he’s here to visit,” she protested.

“I know, I know, but you better at least be safe if you’re going to disgrace the family like this.”

She knew that he was joking by the smile he gave.

At least she didn’t have to hear Dad jokes from him.

Unless-

“I’m hungry,” Clary experimented.

“Hi hungry,” Luke started, but Clary cut him off, horrified, “I’m going now.”

It couldn’t be. Luke didn’t make _Dad_ jokes.

She wrapped herself in Jace’s jacket (that she totally did not steal from him in any way possible) (okay, maybe a little stolen) and set off towards the New York Institute.

She was pondering the idea of Valentine making Dad jokes when she heard the noise.

It was a very obnoxious “MEEE-AAA” noise, which could only mean one thing.

Kittens.

Okay, regardless of what Jace might tell you, Clary was _not_ a crazy cat lady. That wasn’t true. Not at all.

But you can’t just let a bunch of stray little babies alone. That would be worse than Valentine making Dad jokes. Or close to that bad, at the very least.

So, naturally, she did the only thing that somebody could do in that situation.

She searched for them.

And she might have applied an awareness rune to her arm to help her find them.

It was just being a good person, really.

Upon finding them, she frowned. Their mother wasn’t there. The little babies were alone.

Immediately taking off Jace’s jacket and scooping them up in her arms, she jogged the remaining distance to the institute.

Her teeth must have been chattering because Jace was giving her a concerned look.

He started firing questions at her, quicker than his dagger throwing, “Where were you? Are you hurt? Are you cold? Is that my jacket?”

She sighed, “We have more important issues, Herondale.”

“I’m pretty sure whether or not you’re hurt is more important than anything I can think of,” Jace grumbled.

“Then you clearly did not think of the most important thing!” Clary chirped. He rolled his eyes but still giving her a _“go on”_ look.

“Kittens!”

A groan.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t save them,” she pouted.

“You are not going to pout your way into us getting more kittens. Clary, we have three litters of kittens in our room already. And you insist on hiding them also! Do you realize how hard it is to hide the most apathetic creatures on the planet? The answer is no.”

“But Jace-“

“Don’t ‘but Jace’ me!”

“You’re worse than Valentine!” she screamed.

“By the Angel, Clary! That excuse does not work anymore! You used that for the first two litters. But I have grown to resist.”

“You’re not getting laid ever again,” she growled.

“See, we both know _that’s_ a lie,” he smirked.

“Please?” she finally resorted to begging.

“Nope.” She grew irritated with how he popped the ‘p’.

“Well, you know what? I’m going to take care of these cats no matter what you say, and if it means without you, so be it,” she finally said, escaping to her room. He would _not_ see her cry. When she put on the little Santa hats she had knitted for all of them. Raziel, they were the cutest when they wore human clothes.

She was in the process of taking selfies with Catleesi and Ravenclaws when Jace decided to get his nose in her business.

“Yes,” she said, a formal and stiff tone to show her indifference towards him.

“You’re being ridiculous, Clary,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“I am not,” she snapped, “Just because you’re the least caring creature on the planet doesn’t mean I can’t take care of the second most least caring creatures on the planet.”

“You know what? I was going to apologize, but you know what? I’m not going to. Especially because you didn’t name one of them Hufflefluffy, which is a cute name and you know it!”

“You didn’t even want cats!”

“Well, sometimes it takes having a cat to realize how much you wanted one all along!”

“Oh, really? You’re saying that because you saw how cute they were that you started to want them? Well, you know what, Jace? Cats take work. You have to feed them, bathe them, clean up after them, give them attention, and knit them cute hats. And I don’t see you doing any of that, so you really should just stop even trying with this. Cats are a commitment. And it seems like I’m the only one of us that can handle with that, so maybe you should just leave. In ten years, I’ll tell them why you really left, not some made up story about you going to the store to get something and never coming home. If you don’t want to have kittens so terribly, just go. I don’t want to raise the kittens in this world with someone that doesn’t even know the difference between crocheting and knitting! And when you go, just remember all that you left behind.”

“Clary.”

“No,” she snapped, “If you don’t want this, by all means, go.”

“Clary.”

“Why are you doing this?” she snapped, “Do you just want it to be as long as possible?”

He finally yelled, “I found another litter when you were making the hats. They’re a hairless breed, so we need to start making sweaters.”

Clary gasped, suddenly feeling ashamed for assuming Jace wouldn’t care about this as much as her.

“Now,” he added.

She nodded fiercely, already setting to work in making the tiny sweaters.

“Clary?” Jace asked about thirty minutes later.

“Hmm?”

“With all of these cats, you don’t want… children, right?”

“Oh, by the Angel, no!”


	2. Runny Noses and Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec gets a cold, Magnus is convinced it's the end of the world. Average sickfic.

To begin, this was Alec’s fault.

He could have listened to Magnus, but no. Apparently listening to his boyfriend about wearing a coat is too extreme for him.

Naturally, he was at Magnus’s doorstep the next day, red nosed and pajama-clad.

If Alec hadn’t seemed so defenseless, Magnus may have lectured him.

He can’t help that his boyfriend is extremely adorable. That is not in any way, shape, or form within his real of control.

“Yes?” Magnus sniffed indignantly upon seeing him, casually brushing over Alec’s form to check for bruises from yesterday’s hunt.

“Could you please make some tea and stop looking so smug?” Alec pleaded before offering a loud sneeze and wiping his nose with his sleeve.

“Oh, gross, just ask for tissue when you have to sneeze,” Magnus told him, scrunching his nose in disgust. He immediately felt bad when Alec’s pale cheeks reddened and he glanced at the doormat in front of him.

Magnus sighed, “Come in, if you must,” before sauntering to the kitchen.

A few seconds after Alec lay down on his couch, a steaming cup of tea and a box of tissues arrived on the coffee table before him. He smirked a bit before calling out weakly, “If you just magically send over tea and tissues then why did you even go the kitchen?”

“Because,” Magnus hollered back, “I make the best chicken noodle soup in New York.”

Alec failed to keep the grin from his face, “Ah, yes, one of the qualifications for High Warlock. I forget sometimes.”

He yawned; scanning Magnus’s shelves for any books he could convince Magnus to read him. He knew that Magnus would complain longer than a Marvel movie if Alec “strained his eyes” by just reading himself. Alec laughed as he was reminded at how overprotective Magnus was. He sometimes wondered if Magnus also became jealous easily but always dismissed the thought. If Alec was allowed to be jealous about Magnus’s past, it’s only fair that Magnus doesn’t like other men flirting with him.

As Alec was beginning to drift away, a delightful smell stuck itself in his nose. He glanced up at Magnus holding a steaming bowl, looking surreptitiously like a 1950’s Housewife.

“You’re not going to baby me all day, are you?” Alec grumbled, “If I wanted that, I’d just ask my mother to watch me.”

“Please,” Magnus waved his hand grandly, “Your mother is at the clave. There is no way you could prefer Izzy’s cooking over this. Besides that, you’re sick. I’m allowed protect you. You never see Clary complaining about having Jace take care of her.”

“That’s because it’s always the other way around. Clary would snap his head off he tried to pull this!” Alec whined.

Magnus sighed, sitting next to the dark haired boy, “Alexander, I realize you hate to look weak, but I’m only trying to take care of you. And if you complain much longer, then I will call Izzy to make food for you. Then you’re obligated to eat it.”

So Alec begrudgingly allowed Magnus to spoon soup into his mouth and then make him drink a glass of water afterwards.

At about two, Alec started shivering, the blanket not enough for the spurts of cold going through his arms and legs.

“What’s wrong?” Magnus glanced up from where he was working on some paperwork for a werewolf that wasn’t part of Luke’s pack.

“Cold,” he chattered, and Magnus nodded. He stood, setting aside the papers.

He searched on his shelves for a bit before pulling out “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and putting it in his DVD player. After pressing play, he settled on the couch behind Alec, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. Kissing Alec’s shoulder gently, he asked, “Better?”

“You’re going to get sick, you know,” Alec grumbled unappreciatively, squirming a bit.

“Yes, but then you’ll have to take care of me.”

“How do you know I won’t just ignore you?” Alec asked.

“A) I demand attention and you would willingly give it for my adorable personality. B) you love me. And C) I doubt you could find a man more attractive than me.”

Alec only smiled and fell asleep.


	3. Blind Dates and Badass Dads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec has been on too many set ups from his dad, and now he's ready for them to stop.

        Alec was fed up. This had to be breaking a record, even for his father.

“What’s your name?” the girl asks him, a glass of water in front of her. She keeps glancing around nervously as if worried someone is watching. Her black hair falls to her shoulders, and her eyes keep glancing down timidly.

“Alec,” he replies disinterestedly.

“My name is Aline,” she sighs and glances down again, playing with her fingers. Alec wonders silently if he hurt her feelings, but he figures it’s better than to lead her on.

         The waiter takes their orders, her eyes staying on Alec just half a second longer than necessary. As she was walking away, she ‘accidentally’ drops her notepad and bends down.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Aline asks him after a few beats of silence.

            A smile graces his features. She was at least trying. A lot of times, the blind dates would just leave when he wouldn’t talk to him.

“My best friend and adoptive brother, Jace, and I teach self-defense classes. My dad wants me to be a politician like him, but I’m not as interested in that,” he trails off before asking, “What about you?”

  
“I’m a social worker,” she grins, revealing pearly teeth. Alec aches, wishing he could like the girl. It would make life much easier.

“So, what do you like to-“ Alec is cut off by Aline, whose eyes hold a nervousness that had been  there earlier.

 “Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t like guys. I keep getting set up with guys, and I feel guilty every time and-“

Alex cuts her off, “Don’t worry. My dad is the one to be doing this. You really don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

Her eyes widen fractionally, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you out or does he just not know?”

“I’ve never come out, but shouldn’t he know?” Alec replies, his face in his hands. _Was he really that obvious?_

“How is he supposed to know if you don’t tell him? Listen, I’m hardly one to talk, but, meeting you, I think I’m ready…” she glances down, “Do you want to leave? I honestly don’t ever want to go on a blind date again.”

“Yeah, I’m going to go home. You’re right though. I think that I’m going to come out to him. But only if you promise to come out to whoever keeps doing this to you.”

Her grin is back, “Deal.”

         Alec doesn’t go straight home. Instead, he stops by Jace’s apartment that he shared with his fiancée Clary. He knocks on the door, knowing better than to walk straight in. He didn’t know what was worse: how loud they were (and they were _very_ loud- like, loud enough to wear his nightmares play it in a sort of horror music) or Jace hitting him afterwards. A few minutes later, Jace opens the door, wearing gym clothes. Clary’s on the couch, humming to whatever song that was playing on her iPod, her pen stroking the sketch pad in front of her. Alec used to think Clary was adorable, but she gave off a slightly threatening vibe with the black tattoos that swirled over her. The fact that Jace fell in love with a dorky tattoo artist who could probably make The Mountain from _Game of Thrones_ scared didn’t surprise Alec. She glances up at him, a smirk finding her face. She winks, asking, “Get laid?”

“See, Clary, you’re a five foot, heterosexual female and, normally, they don’t say things like ‘Jace, pull over, I have to piss’ or ‘get laid?’. It’s horribly un-lady like,” Alex tells her, coming to sit down beside her and glance down at the drawing. It looked like some tattoo she probably intended to have Julian, who also worked at her parlor, draw on her. There was an eye like thing with a little ‘x’.

She bats her eyes at him, “I’m not like other girls.”

“Seriously, though, how did it go?” Jace asks him, plopping down onto a bright green chair across from his fiancée.

“Better than Tessa and Jem’s first date, I would say,” he shrugs, “Of course, I’ve seen _How I Met Your Mother_ dates that went better than that.”

“I’m still upset about the finale,” Clary thinks for a second before adding,“And Jem and Tessa were bound to be horrible at dating. Jem has like, no, romantic history, and I hardly think Tess’s history counts when you consider she married a man with a dragon tattoo on his ass and didn’t date anyone else after the wreck.” Alec thinks to Jem and Tessa, who had recently gotten together. They made each other happy after Will passed. They were just as perfect for each other as Will and Tessa had been.

Jace shakes his head, “I still don’t believe someone I’m related to did that.” Clary glances at him, an amused smile lighting her features, “I’m the one that drew it, Blondie. And trust me, your a-“

“I didn’t come here because I’m suddenly interested in voyeurism,” Alec tells them before they can continue whatever they were about to say.

“Your loss,” Jace laughs, winking.

“You’re not my type,” Alec replies.

“I’m quite certain I’m everyone’s type. Red, back me up on this.”

Clary considers before saying, “No, I feel like Alec is more into Meliorn. I mean, who isn’t?”

“Must you always remind us of that very, very dark night of my existence?” Alec inquires, “And you aren’t one to talk about embarrassing nights, Karaoke Queen.”

A flush reaches Clary’s cheeks, “In my defense-“

“What could possibly defend that night?” Jace sets his hands on his knees, “I’m pretty sure declaring your undying love for him and then singing about it is not how you deal with meeting a celebrity.”

She holds her hand up, silencing him, “I was drunk.”

“Oh, I know, but you still declared us your queen, claimed me as your consort, and threw up in my lap. That’s what we’re making fun of.”

“Oh, and I was under the impression it was a different time,” she told him dryly.

“So, the weirdest thing happened on the date,” Alec interrupts their banter, needing their advice (although he probably shouldn’t get advice from the ‘Queen’ and her ‘Royal Consort’). Their heads moved simultaneously to him, and Alec wondered idly if they practiced or they just did these things naturally.

 “What happened?” Jace asks.

“The girl I went with, Aline, she was gay too… And, I realized that I want to come out to my father.”

     Clary and Jace exchange glances at each other, a silent communication they’ve mastered over the years. Alec felt a jealous pang in his chest as he saw Jace’s protective and loving demeanor towards Clary. He wasn’t jealous of either of the two. It was jealousy at how open they could be about how much they loved each other, without offending anybody.

Finally, Clary speaks, “Do you think you’re ready?”

“Yes,” Alec tells her eagerly, “I’ve waited so long to, and it’s time he knew.”

“Then, you should,” Jace encourages, and they both smile at him. It sometimes confused Alec at how easily they could transition from sarcasm to life changing advice.

         They talk for a few more hours before Alec leaves, bracing himself for what he was going to tell his father.

        Robert sat across from Alec. Dreading the idea of speaking, Alec opts for pushing around some vegetables on his plate.

“So,” Robert clears his throat, “Um, how was your… date?”

“Dad, I’m gay,” Alec bursts out. If Jace and Clary were here they’d probably give him the thumbs up and facetiously comment, “Eloquent”.

         A beat of silence. A light cough. A long drink of wine. Another cough.

         There were a lot of times that Alec wished he could disappear. This was not one of those times. Despite everything, he felt proud of himself. He’d finally come out to his father.

“Are you going to say anything to me ever again?” Alec asks him, genuinely curious.

He considers this before telling him, “So, I’m assuming the date didn’t go too well…”

          His father was… Joking?

“You’re not… mad?” Alec whispers.

“I promise I will never be mad as long as you promise me in turn that you will go on just one more blind date,” Robert tells him.

“Why do you want me to do this?” Alec whispers.

“Just agree to the deal,” Robert tells him.

“Fine,” Alec amends.

        Which is how Alexander Lightwood got to the situation he was in now. He walks into the expensive seeming restaurant, growing more and more hesitant as he walks on.

“Name on reservation?” the hostess quips coolly.

Alec stutters out, “Lightwood.” He’d never been to a restaurant this fancy for a date. His father was a senator, but he didn’t like showing off his money.

         The hostess’s eyes widen. Recognition flickers in her gaze before she barks out, “Follow me.” Oh, no, what if his father had been an ass to her. What if all of this dinner was going to be… as a punishment for his son being gay?

       His feet drag across the fancy carpet, seemingly clunking loudly. Or maybe it was just Alec’s head. Sweat drips down his spine, showering him in a bucket of fear. He never was more nervous than he was then. _Just one more blind date,_ he reminds himself. _Then I never have to date again. I’ll move in with Izzy and Simon. Or Jace and Clary. Or I can get a bunch of cats and become a recluse. That seems reasonable._

“Your table,” the hostess tells him. Opening his eyes, Alec feels his heart stop.

“There must be a mistake, ma’am,” Alec gasps out.

“Am I not attractive enough for you, Mr. Lightwood?” the man at the table asks him. Keyword being _man._ Curious feline like eyes peer up at him, and his accent makes Alec think he might be Asian. Black hair swoops down to the man’s upturned eyebrows, and the guy holds a rather self-satisfied smirk. He was the most beautiful thing Alec had ever seen. To say he wasn’t attractive enough for him seemed a sin.

“I-I wasn’t expecting a man here,” he stutters.

“Is that so? You’re not very talented at the whole ‘I’m gay’ thing if you were expecting a female, Mr. Lightwood. Perhaps you should look up a definition online,” the man laughs at Alec’s dumbfounded expression.

“Just Alec is fine,” he finally stammers out, a blush reaching his face.

“Well, Just Alec. I’m Magnus Bane. And I just so happen to be a man. Your father suggested I go on this date, so here I am. Would you like to continue?” Magnus’s curious eyes sparkle slightly.

“Yes, actually, I would,” Alec replies, a smile starting to form on his face in what seemed like the first time in forever.


	4. You're Not Going to Make Fetch Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the group has never seen Mean Girls, and Clary and Simon change that.

A light snow had fallen by the time Simon Lewis and Clary Fray had gotten back to The New York Institute. Naturally, this led to a snowball fight between the _parabatai_ and then a heated argument about the acceptance of face shots.

“I just don’t see why you think that shoving snow down my pants is the best way of dealing with me getting snow in your hair,” Simon said to his best friend as they walk inside the old building.

“And, like I said, throwing snowballs in my hair is _so_ not fetch,” Clary told him, rain dripping from her fiery hair.

“Stop trying to make fetch happen!” Simon immediately replied, reminding him of a more important issue at hand, “We haven’t watched Mean Girls this year. It’s a tradition”

Clary turned towards her friend, “The DVD is in my room. If you make popcorn, I’ll share my blanket.”

That was when Jace Herondale chose to saunter down the steps of the institute, yawning, “What’s Mean Girls?”

“Wait,” Simon said, “Jace doesn’t know what Mean Girls is? And you’re still with him?”

“I’d watch your words, Simon, I doubt Izzy knows the movie either,” Clary reminded him.

“What is Mean Girls?” Jace repeated, glancing between the two.

“A movie. Simon and I watch it every year at Christmas time,” Clary explained. Jace simply raised his brows before telling Simon that he had a lesson in knife throwing at three and leaving.

“That’s in thirty minutes,” Simon realizes, glancing at Clary, “I guess later then?”

“Oh, no, I’ll handle Jace. We’ll be watching the movie. Go make the popcorn,” Clary commanded.

After Simon had wandered off to the kitchen, Clary darted to the training room. She glanced down at her holey jeans and hoodie she had chosen earlier, smoothing them down a little nervously.

Before Clary had even walked five steps, a dagger went sailing above her. Luckily, she had dropped to a crouch before Jace could inflict any damage.

“Jesus, Herondale!” she joked, “Are you trying to murder me?”

“But then who would I have to go to boring functions with?” he smirked, nonchalantly checking to see if he had hurt her at all.

“You’re about to have none,” she grumbled.

He grinned, sinking to his knees and kissing her forehead.

“What’s going on?” he murmured into her hair, and she remembered what she was here for.

“Simon can’t train today,” she proclaimed bravely.

He scooted back, a lazy smile spreading across his cheeks, “Are you seriously trying to seduce me in to letting Simon out of training? Deplorable.”

Clary rolled her eyes, “In what universe would I seduce you to get what I want?”

Jace pondered this before replying, “A universe where you have considerably more power over me.”

“You act like I don’t have power over you now,” she laughed.

“Are you trying to tell me that I am whipped, Fray?” Jace asked.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not, Herondale?” she retorted. He simply smiled at her before scooping her up.

“What are you doing?” she pouted.

“If you’re going to deprive me of training my dear student, I’m quite certain that gives me reason to spend that time with you.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Clary said, hopping out of his arms.

“And why not?”

“Because I convinced you to not train him so I could watch Mean Girls with him.”

“Using your body to spend it with other men?” he sighed dramatically.

“I’m about to use my body to hurt you,” she threatened.

“Oh, please do,” he winked.

When they reached Clary’s room, she marched towards her DVD collection and searched for the movie, muttering threats that Jace chose to ignore.

“Oh, by the way, I expect Simon to be training after this,” Jace commented, gaping at how easily Clary had strewn random DVDs all over the room already. He flinched a bit, fighting the urge to start cleaning and having another long argument take place.

Clary, finally succeeding in finding the case, hopped up from the pile around her. So maybe she thought it would be fun to see how long it took for Jace to snap at the mess, but that totally doesn’t sound like something she would do.

“Are you ready to see the best movie ever?” she asked enthusiastically, yelping as Simon popped into the room behind her. Followed by Izzy, Magnus, and Alec.

“What are they doing here?” Clary asked Simon, gaping at her _parabatai._

He craned his neck to glance at the company behind him, then explained, “Izzy wanted to hang out with me, Magnus likes Mean Girls, and Alec likes Magnus.”

“Alright, fine, but only because you made popcorn,” Clary amended, setting her laptop to where everybody could see the small screen.

Two hours later began the longest days of Clary’s life.

Now, she liked Mean Girls references as much as everyone else, but did they have to continue saying fetch so often?

It always started with Jace commenting about how something was “fetch” followed by Izzy’s scream of, “Stop trying to make fetch happen!”

And of course this led to them making a Burn Book. Like, an actual Burn Book. Somehow putting pictures of the Seelie Queen didn’t seem like a good idea.

Of course, the overwhelming amount of candy canes on her desk scrawled with the words, “You Go Glen Coco” were to be expected.

It had started so innocent. Those things weren’t that bad.

And then it plummeted into the most horrifying thing Clary had ever seen.

“What a bright time, it’s the right time to rock the night away,” Izzy was singing, enthusiastically recreating the iconic dance. Clary would have let it slide if she hadn’t also recreated outfit to a tee.

“Okay, that’s it,” Clary shouted. Jace, Alec, and Izzy all glanced at her.

“No more Mean Girls references. You’re letting this get out of hand. I was okay with even the Burn Book, but seriously? This is not going to happen. I’m sorry. But no.”

It was silent for a few beats before Jace whispered, almost brokenly, “That is so not fetch.”

“OMG JACE STOP TRYING TO MAKE FETCH HAPPEN.”


End file.
